There's a Kind of a, Sort of a Cost
by ThatGuyRex
Summary: WICKED, showfic. A sister to 'There's a Couple of Things Get Lost' and a prequel to 'No One Mourns the Wicked, but What About the Good? '. Follows Elphaba from the end of the show through her journey into hiding.
1. Chapter 1

AN: This story is Elphaba's side of the prequel to my first Wicked fic, 'No One Mourns the Wicked - But What About the Good?' Look for its sister fic, "There's a Couple of Things Get Lost", detailing Glinda's side of this story.

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**"There's a kind of a... sort of a cost."**

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The cold seems to seep into her bones, creeping silently into her very being. Elphaba curls herself into a tighter ball, and is gradually aware of a hand on her shoulder, shaking her softly.

"Elphaba." Fiyero's voice pops Elphaba's eyes open and she rolls over to face him, with a sleepy smile. Her eyes travel over the unfamiliar, scarecrow face, the soft, hay-stuffed body. The voice is the same.

"We should get going. It's dark out now... I know they're not looking for us, but if someone happened to see us - we're kind of recognizeable. I'll feel better when we're somewhere safe." Fiyero continues. Elphaba finds it hard to find emotion in the cloth face. She can detect the barest hint of tension in his soft shoulders, but only because she knows him so well.

She rises to her feet, brushing grass from her cape. Goosebumps raise on her skin as a cool breeze picks up, and then, suddenly, memory hits her.

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_It was dark and cramped in her little hiding place under the floor. She waited, listening for sounds of life above, waited for Fiyero to come and rescue her. She waited. And then she heard it, faintly through the floorboards. Deep, gut-wrenching sobs, full of heartbreak. Glinda was above her, mourning the loss of a friend. _

Mourning her.

Elphaba sank down in her hiding place, brought her knees to her chin. Closed her eyes. Waited, while the sobs above her went on and on.

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Elphaba is left shaken by the memory, and she wraps her arms around herself. Softly, Fiyero comes up behind her.

"Elphaba - are you all right?"

Elphaba turns to face him, her hair streaming behind her as she whirls around. The wind picks up the dark tendrils and whips them about. Her dark eyes bore into Fiyero's flat ones, beseechingly. Her expression implores him to understand.

"We just left her there, Fiyero. She loved us... and we left her, all alone." Elphaba says, her voice rough.

Fiyero steps towards her and gently takes her hands. "There's nothing that we could have done." He says softly, his flat, unemotional scarecrow eyes fixed on her. "She can never know that we're alive. It's too difficult a secret to keep."

Elphaba pulls back, looking at Fiyero. "We could have taken her with us. We could have all run away." Her voice begins to take on an almost manic note. Fiyero reaches for her, takes her by the shoulders. Looking directly into her eyes, he speaks firmly.

"You know that Glinda would never be happy on the run. The city is where she belongs. Elphaba - it's better this way."

As Elphaba listens to him, her spine straightens. A colder tone enters her voice and even her gaze seems stony as she watches him, unblinkingly.

"You didn't hear her cry." She says, quietly.

Fiyero steps forward, and folds her into an embrace.

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AN: So, I'm writing again. Any of my old readers still reading? (New ones are welcome, too!) I had the good fortune to be in a play over Christmas, but it's over now and I have time to do other things again. Phew. Happy New Year, guys. And this isn't the end of the fic - don't make me bring out the cliffies.

Thanks for reading.  
Love,  
B


	2. Chapter 2

AN: This story is Elphaba's side of the prequel to my first Wicked fic, 'No One Mourns the Wicked - But What About the Good?' Look for its sister fic, "There's a Couple of Things Get Lost", detailing Glinda's side of this story.

Just to remind you, this fic is based on the musical, where Elphaba suffers no ill-effects from contact with water.

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** "There's a kind of a, sort of a cost."**

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The rain makes a steady rhythm on the leaves above their heads as Elphaba and Fiyero slowly move through the dark forest. Fiyero is wrapped in Elphaba's cloak. It has turned out that his new body does not take well to excessive moisture. The fat drops that make it through the foliage soon soak Elphaba to the skin, while the moisture in the air takes its toll on Fiyero's straw, wilting it. Soon, they are both miserable and irritated.

"Can't we make camp here for the night? The rain is just getting worse." Elphaba calls ahead, to Fiyero. He is moving at a brisk pace, while Elphaba, soaked and exhausted, lags behind. Fiyero pauses to wait for her, and when she draws level with him, he starts ahead again.

"We can't stop until morning, Elphaba."

Elphaba sighs with frustration, and speeds her pace to stay next to Fiyero. "There aren't going to be any people in the forest tonight. It's pouring rain. We're well away from the city." She is beginning to regret their flight from Oz. Even though Fiyero's letter gave her a little time to prepare, she didn't gather anything. For all their plans to run away, Elphaba still feels like a part of her was stuck in Oz. She couldn't leave it, completely. She couldn't leave Glinda, completely. She wishes she had at least thought to grab her broomstick.

"All the better reason to get away now. I won't feel safe until we're completely out of Oz." Fiyero replies, without looking at her. Elphaba clenches her fists, biting back a sarcastic remark.

They keep travelling for most of the night, and the rain continues its ceaseless onslaught. Fiyero keeps the pace brisk, and Elphaba begins to wonder if his straw body ever tires. After a while, she is too tired to wonder about anything. Finally, about a hour before dawn, Fiyero slows to wait for her. Elphaba squints to make him out through the rain. He seems to waver in and out of her vision. What's going on? She makes note that the whole forest seems to be wavering, but somehow the thought doesn't concern her.

Fiyero turns back just in time to see Elphaba fall to her knees, and he quickly rushes to her side. "Elphaba?" He places his glove against her cheek, but he can't feel anything with his cloth limb. He helps her into a sitting position. "Damn, Elphaba, you're shivering."

Elphaba responds to his worried tone, trying to raise herself. "I'll be all right, Fiyero, I just need to rest for a minute." She says, weakly.

"No, you're freezing. How could I have been so stupid? I made you keep going." Fiyero removes the cloak from his shoulders and wraps it around Elphaba, providing her with some warmth, although the cloak is almost soaked through. "Lie down." He says, and Elphaba complies.

Fiyero begins to make camp. Neither of them notice the small tear in the fabric halfway up his arm. 

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AN: I know I'm evil. I just love the cliffies too much.

Linz, I know it's the weekend and you might not get to read this for a while, but I miss you too! I'm marking the days off on my calendar until you get the internet back!

I have my sister to thank for this chapter. She proof-read, and helped me work out quite a few problems with this darn thing. Yay!

Thanks for reading.  
Love,  
B


	3. Chapter 3

AN: I have a few notes for my reviewers. Bear with me. -P

Palm Tree 101 - In answer to your question, I definitely encourage you to read one of my other Wicked fics, 'No One Mourns the Wicked - But What about the Good?' These two sister fics are the prequel, they join together in the next one.

sweetsaturn - I'm glad you're reading again. I can always count on you to really tell me what you think, and if certain things had the impact I hoped they would. 'Happy ending'? What means this 'happy ending'-P

Everyone else, I really appreciate your reviews, too. Thank you!

And just a small warning to tell you all that this chapter is going in a dark direction. Some of you might not like it.

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** "There's a kind of a, sort of a cost."**

* * *

The next few days pass in a blur for Elphaba. She slips in and out of feverish sleep, and develops a deep, chest cough. Fiyero anxiously attends her. The rains continue, and the exposure to such an environment without the protection of a decent shelter takes a toll on the straw man. He is bedraggled, mud-spattered, tattered and frayed. His body is heavy with the moisture it absorbs.

Fiyero had journeyed in his straw body before, but his trip down the yellow brick road had been with three other companions, enough company to protect each other from their various weak points - and indeed, the elements were not kind to Fiyero. Any weather pattern, in excess, could damage his straw self. Perhaps even beyond repair. As he pauses against the canvas wall of the tent for a moment, he recalls his moment of transformation.

-

_ "Now! GO!" Fiyero shouted, the barrel of his gun trained on Glinda. He didn't risk a glance over his shoulder at Elphaba. He kept his gaze on the gun, pointed at Glinda. He wasn't even sure he knew the pretty blonde woman any more. She had changed from the soft schoolgirl that she was. They all had changed._

_"Do it." He heard Glinda say. Her voice, though trembling, carried an undertone of command. Perhaps she would make a good public figure, after all. She didn't seem to have a problem saving her own skin. Fiyero heard the sounds of Elphaba fleeing, but he didn't look behind him. He knew there was an impossible number of soldiers, armed, waiting for him. Instead, he raised his eyes and for a moment, he gazed at Glinda's face._

_The confident, cool schoolgirl was still there, underneath it all - maturity had just tempered the silliness with a real, though fledgeling, leadership ability. Her spine was straight, and though she was facing down the barrel of a gun, she didn't cower. Her eyes were gazing down the path Elphaba had taken, but a moment later, they flicked back to meet his. It was then that his gun wavered._

_Glinda hadn't been concerned with saving her own skin. She had cared about Elphaba, too. She wanted Elphaba to get away. As his eyes gazed into hers, he could see the depth of feeling she still had for him. With a pang of regret, he recalled how he had stood her up at their engagement party. How he had run off with Elphaba, right in front of her._

_Fiyero lowered the gun. He was dimly aware of Glinda shouting protests as the soldiers swarmed him. They roughly pinned him in place with sticks, and hoisted him above them. Glinda managed to harangue them into a pause for a moment. He hung in the soldiers' grip, aware of Glinda's presence beside him._

_"He was never going to harm me. He... loves her." Finally, Glinda's voice trembled and broke, and Fiyero raised his gaze to her._

_"Glinda, I'm so sorry." He replied, but the soldiers, seizing Glinda's moment of weakness, were already hoisting him up again._

_"No! Don't hurt him. Please, don't hurt him!" Glinda's anguished voice floated to him as he was carried away, and the wind picked up. It seemed to carry a moan... it almost sounded like his name._

_The soldiers stuck him up in a field. The commander stepped forward, holding the butt of his gun at the ready. "Where did the witch go?" He asked, his glaring eyes boring into Fiyero. Fiyero returned the gaze steadily, saying nothing. "You will tell me." The commander spat, raising the butt of his gun. Fiyero cringed slightly, anticipating the blow, but when it came, it felt surprisingly light. Dull, even. It didn't really feel like a blow at all. He opened his eyes. The soldiers were staring at him, in shock._

_"Witchcraft." The commander hissed, bringing his gun to bear. He fired a shot, directly through Fiyero's heart. Or, directly where Fiyero's heart should have been. The bullet passed harmlessly through the cloth and straw body, landing in the field beyond. The commander was visibly shaken._

_"Never mind, men. He can't get down off those poles." The commander said, clearly wanting to get away from the supernatural sight. "If we don't find the witch on our own, we'll come back. With torches."_

-

As the grey morning dawns, Fiyero enters the tiny tent. To his relief, Elphaba is awake and alert.

As Elphaba wakes, to her it is like climbing out of a hole. Though she is weak and tired, she feels better. Her head has cleared.

As soon as Fiyero appears in the doorway, illuminated by the dawn, it feels as if a cold hand has taken hold of her chest. She stares at him in shock, wondering for a moment if she is still feverish. Though she has had only a short time to get accustomed to his new appearance, the apparition in front of her now is barely recognizeable.

The scarecrow's cloth is badly stained, covered in dark brown mud. Straw has worn through many parts of the body, his cloth hangs in soggy tatters. One arm dangles, ripped and empty. One eye is missing, straw ends poking through a large rip in his face.

"Fiyero..." Shock reduces Elphaba's voice to a whisper. She pushes herself up into a sitting position. Fiyero squeezes into the small tent, settling into the area her legs had previously occupied.

"It's been raining for days." The scarecrow explains, softly. "It turns out I can't handle it well, either. The wetter I get, the easier I tear."

Elphaba stares for a moment. "We'll dry you out. I'll fix you."

"The damage has been done, Elphaba." A crash of thunder precedes a flash of lightening that sounds frighteningly close by. "The rain isn't going to stop. Scarecrows don't last forever." He says, a slight bitter note in his voice.

"But.. your hay. You've survived without your hay before."

"At that time, my cloth was undamaged."

Elphaba grows both annoyed and desperate by the calm acceptance in Fiyero's voice. "I'll fix you." She repeats. "Something... the Grimmerie..." She clenches her fists, recalling how she had left the Grimmerie with Glinda. "I'll find something. I'll patch you up. I'll give you my own clothes!" As her tone grows more desperate, a small coughing fit overtakes her. Fiyero seizes the moment, standing up.

"You're in no condition to do that, Elphaba. What happens, happens. I want to make sure you're all right." He turns, and exits the tent. Elphaba quickly gets to her feet, and after taking a moment to regain her balance, she follows him out into the storm.

"Fiyero!" She calls, and he stops and faces her again. "Why are you like this? I... can't lose you."

"You already did." He replies, his tone harsh. Looking at her face though, he softens. "Elphaba, these past few days have been hard. I'm not the same as I was. I don't feel the same. When we were travelling, I didn't realize how tired you were getting. I didn't feel it. It's like I've lost touch with what it was like to be made of flesh and blood. I kept pushing you, because I could keep going. And I pushed you too far. I can't put you in danger like that. You'd be better off without me."

"Fiyero, I don't want to be without you. I don't care if you're different. I know different. Can't you see that?"

Fiyero smiles, a cold expression that twitches up the corner of his mouth. "This time, you don't understand what it's like. I'm not like you any more. And I can't explain it." He turns again. "I need to get some firewood. Stay here."

"No. I'm coming with you." Elphaba says, her tone just as steely.

"Don't be stupid. You've been running a fever for three days. Get back inside." Fiyero begins to head towards a stand of trees, with some fallen branches around the base.

Elphaba, fuming, stays where she is for a moment, as a great forked branch of lightening splits the sky above. She watches Fiyero move towards the trees, her arms folded. A movement above catches her eye, and it only takes her a split second to register what it is.

"Fiyero!" She screams.

The falling branch, loosed from the tree by the bolt of lightening, falls toward the ground. Its pronged tip catches the scarecrow in the face, poking gaping holes in the burlap. As the momentum carries the branch, it tears jagged strips straight down the scarecrow's soaking body. Soggy straw explodes over the ground, and the torn rags collapse in pieces.

Stunned, Elphaba dashes over to the pile. She fishes a few pieces of burlap from the rags. What should have been Fiyero's face is clear of any features. All she holds in her hands are a few strips of blank burlap.

Elphaba stares at the cloth for a long time, as the thunder crashes over her head.

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AN: I'm not going to say much here. Except this was the longest chapter I've ever written. And don't hate me too much. I'll remind you that this is the prequel to my other Elphaba/Glinda fic, and in that fic I already established that Fiyero was gone. So to keep up consistency, it had to happen.

Thanks for reading.  
Love,  
B


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Wow it's been years since I updated this fic. I want to start writing again, so let me know if I still have it. :)

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**"There's a kind of a... sort of a cost."**

* * *

_FLASH._ It was dark. The rain still poured.

_FLASH._ The base of a tree.

_FLASH._ A few torn scraps of burlap.

_Fiyero._

Elphaba sits at the base of the tree, staring at what used to be the person she loved most in the world, for a long time. The rain pours. And then slowly, as the sky lightens from night into day, the rain stops. The sun comes out. The birds start to sing.

Elphaba wants to cover her ears. She wants it to stay dark, quiet. How dare the world continue on when her lover is dead?

"Shut up!" She yells at the birds, and then, finally, she cries. She cries for Glinda. She cries for Fiyero. But she doesn't cry for herself. No, instead, a hard knot tightens in her chest. The tears dry on her face and she rises to her feet. She is going to continue on. She is going to get out of Oz just like Fiyero had planned for them.

Bending down, she plucks a scrap of burlap from the sodden heap at her feet, and tucks it inside of her dress.

She stumbles blindly in the direction they had been headed for most of the morning, but by afternoon her energy is drained and she collapses next to a rock. Her clothes are dry now, but the elements have still taken a toll on her and she is feverish again. She doesn't realize this. Her heart is empty and her mind is dark. As she slides into unconsciousness, she sees a tree that is practically black with crows. One particularly large bird lifts off from the tree and lands on the rock next to her. In its beak is a piece of straw.

"Fiyero..." She mutters, and then everything is black.

_"Elphaba." He's standing in front of her. Fiyero - but not a scarecrow. Fiyero the way he used to be, not the horrible sodden bunch of straw she had managed to turn him into._

_Elphaba sits up. Everything is white, Fiyero is standing before her in a white room._

_"Elphaba, I came to say goodbye." the man says, and Elphaba looks into his eyes. She can't tell what she sees there. Is this her Yero? It doesn't feel like it. Suddenly, his face melts into a sneer._

_"And good riddance," He says. "I never should have chosen you. I should have stayed with Glinda. You could never love me like she can."_

_"Fiyero?" Elphaba's voice trembles. What was going on?_

_"I'm leaving, Elphaba. And I don't want you to follow me. I don't love you any more."_

_Elphaba watched dumbly as the man gave her a disparaging look, turned, and walked away, until he faded out of view._

Her eyes open, and she begins to become aware of her surroundings again. A forest. The sun beats down on her. Her mind slowly takes the traumatizing scene of the branch tearing Fiyero apart and replaces it with the man sneering at her and walking away. 'Fiyero left me.' she thinks.

She looks up, and realizes that there is a large crow standing on the rock next to her. She looks at the bird for a moment, and then jumps as it begins to speak.

"Ah yes, Elphaba, I presume. We've been looking for you." the Crow says, as his brethren in the tree rise up as if they are a single entity and surround her.


End file.
